Zombies vs Polar Bears: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 5 (28 page)

I give you, the Lizard Army!

He wasn't laughing as Jason's tank began to crank over and he
worked his way into the turret interior.

3

“Liam, there's a switch on the lower wall near your side
with a little piston. You have to move that up and down about eight
or nine times to prime the fuel lines for me.”

He found the little box on the wall and did as instructed. “Done.”

“OK, sit tight. There's a lot of steps here.” She
giggled like a little girl at Christmastime.

“Mom, in ten million years I wouldn't have imagined us
inside a tank.” A continuing thought was that he couldn't
believe she was driving while he was sight-seeing up top, but if his
dad was here, he and his mom would both have been in the turret.
Though, dwelling on the letter in his pocket, he wondered if his mom
and
dad would both be driving the tanks.

He tried to man up, as Victoria would say, but he ran afoul of his
own feelings when he remembered his dad would never
ever
be a
part of his life again. His attention was broken when the engine
turned over and his mom hooted in the headphones.

The Tiger's engine sounded like an old sports car, with a heavy,
deep-throated rumble. The need for the headphones became apparent as
it was loud in the interior. He looked over to Annie, who had slumped
into the turret on the other side of the workings of the gun. The
light shone in from the two open hatches above them.

The tank lurched, then they started to move. Immediately Lana
turned the whole thing so it was facing back the way they'd come.
They moved for a thirty seconds or so, and then she shifted back down
until they were stopped with the engine running.

“Jason is going to go first. Liam, I think it would be best
if you kept your hatch closed and stayed inside the turret—there
could be people shooting at us.”

An automatic response was going to be something to the effect “Who
would shoot at a tank?” but he'd seen it all. Someone
would
shoot at the tank. He had no doubt about it. As to why. It was as
simple as “It was there.” People were insane.

Jason's tank roared by. The dust of the parking lot trailed behind
him.

“Moving,” said his mom. Jason's voice hopped on their
channel. “Follow me, stay close, out.”

The tanks moved onto the rail line. They approached the parked
line of tanker cars, then the Tigers rolled along the right-of-way
next to it. No shots rang out from the mysterious person who
dispatched the Arizona. Ten minutes later, Jason angled his tank and,
it appeared, was heading toward downtown St. Louis.

As if knowing it would generate a question, Jason was on the
radio. “Change of plan. We'll get some eyes on downtown, then
drive back on the roads. Nothing is going to touch us in these
things. Over.”

“Roger. Charlie Mike,” his mom said.

Charlie Mike? Continue mission? Mom, you're talking like a
soldier.

His pride for his mother was tempered by the road ahead. There
were no people along the train tracks, and thus there were few
zombies. The road was a different story. As they approached, the
number of ambient zombies began to rise. Liam popped his head from
the top hatch to get a better look. No zombie could get on their tank
while they were moving. He guessed...

They were on a major thoroughfare when Jason came on again.

“Don't stop. Run them down. Out.”

He didn't think his mom needed such a directive. Dead was dead.
Plowing over a zombie with a tank was a hell of a way to go. Worse
than being hit with an MRAP.

Jason's tank veered to the left as they cruised along, and seconds
later Liam watched in horror as a red mush appeared on the street
underneath the back of its left track. The blood of the creature
stuck to the treads and he watched it come through again and again
like a bicycle chain past the pedals.

Lana made no effort to run them over, but soon it was impossible
not to hit one. The tank was so wide it was hard to miss those
standing in the street, though she did weave from side to side where
she had room. It wasn't long before she didn't have the room, and
Liam watched as a young running boy slid underneath the nose of his
Tiger. Gone.

In a few more minutes, as the crowd got thick, Jason turned
directly to the right. Instead of going toward downtown he was
heading for the Mississippi River. Liam stayed low in the hatch so he
could keep his bearings. The Arch loomed above him on his left. They
were just south of it. Which meant they weren't heading west toward
Forest Park.

“Mom, what's Jason doing? I think he took a wrong turn.”

“We'll follow him, and see.”

My zombie sense is tingling.

4

The number of zombies decreased sharply as they navigated through
the warehouses and the tall chain link dividers of the warehouse
district. Given enough time, the zombies from the street would follow
the path of the loud tank, but for the moment the area was clear.

They parked the two tanks one behind the other in a narrow lane
between two warehouses. There were no windows or other openings, so
they could be fairly certain nothing was going to attack them from
the sides. That's what Jason said when he hopped back from his Tiger
to theirs. He unslung his rifle and shot behind the tank a couple
times. “Those runners kept up with us,” he said
nonchalantly.

He crouched on the front deck as he spoke. Lana stuck her head out
of her driver's hatch while Liam and Annie both stood up in theirs.
“Lana, you and I will run ahead and check on our route. Liam,
you can look back that way for any more runners. Mike will focus on
the front.” He pointed to the other man in his turret. “Annie,
if you're up to it, you can keep watch with Liam.”

She nodded, though Liam noticed her eyes were droopy. Either she
was really tired, or something was wrong with her.

“Annie, you look—”

“Like shit? Yeah, I know Jay. I'll be fine. I'm not going
for a run. I promise.” She laughed, but no one else did.

“We aren't heading back to Forest Park?”

Instead of answering Liam's question directly, Jason passed a look
to Lana. In turn she hopped out of her driver's seat, pulled out her
rifle after her, and stood up. “Liam, this is important, OK?
Just guard that back side and we'll be on our way soon enough.”

He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, though her eyes
seemed more serious.

She jumped to the other tank with Jason, then they scrambled down
the front of the beast, and ran up the corridor toward a big concrete
wall. In a couple minutes they were out of sight.

Annie's gun was lying on top of the turret. It vaguely faced
forward while she stared that way. Liam looked backward with his gun
propped smartly on the upside down hatch lid. The way they were both
supposed to be watching.

“Run, kid.”

He spun his head around. Annie looked progressively worse. The
blood dripping from her ear was definitely new.

“What?”

“I said, run. I'm not right.”

“Why the hell didn't you tell my mom, or Jason?”

“You think I have a choice? Whatever this is inside
me...it's tricky. I'm having trouble knowing the difference between
my voice, and...not my voice.” Her gun was now pointing
somewhat in his direction.

The lower half of his body was still inside the turret
compartment. He felt for the pistol in his pants pocket, hoping to
find the security it gave him minutes earlier. He held it out of her
sight, for the moment.

“I don't care anymore. I lost my lover back in that drainage
ditch. This is fitting, I guess.”

There was no one else around, but Mike in the other tank. He was
looking the other way. His mom had run around the corner at the end
of the lane between the buildings—out of sight. The gun handle
was soaked, he was so nervous. The conflict between getting out and
running for it, or staying in and fighting was in full bloom.

Man up.

“You have to leave, Annie. If you're infected. Get out of
here.”

“What...so you can shoot me in the back?” Her head
drooped. Both ears had blood draining—just enough to be
noticed. “I'm—” She cocked her head sideways, as if
listening for something. “I can hear them.”

“Who?” His curiosity often overcame his fears. He was
bolstered by the feel of steel in his hand. He pointed it at her.

She leaned over like she was straining to hear something, and then
she fell back inside her compartment, out of his view. He squatted
back into his own hatch so he could see Annie on the other side of
the main gun's breech. She was starting to get upset, just as Dean
had done.

He stood back up, willing his mother to come back. She wasn't
there. It was on him.

There were few good choices. The handgun was in his hand, though
he couldn't ignore the shakes in his arm. Shooting the girl was the
last thing he wanted to do, no matter her condition. If he missed,
inside the turret, would the bullet ricochet back to him?

With some effort he lowered himself back into the tank. He fell
into his seat and then tried to check on Annie's condition. To his
surprise he only saw her feet as they went up through the top of her
exit, trailed by the wire from her communications getup. He warily
stood back up.

“Annie!”

Adding “Where are you going?” was unnecessary. She'd
been taken by the same force that had captured Dean. The girl hung
herself off the back of the tank, dropped, then ran. In less than a
minute she had gone far enough she could turn down a side street, out
of his sight.

Only after she was gone did he think about using his rifle to put
her down.

Is that the right term? Could I shoot a her in the back? Was
she a zombie?

All kinds of questions without answers.

He had five minutes to sit and ruminate. Lana and Jason approached
at a run from ahead. They both jumped up on the tank, then Lana
continued to the second and made for her driver's position. She made
no mention of Annie though he wanted her to ask.

The engines roared to life, much louder now that he was exposed
and between the two concrete buildings. The tanks got up to speed and
headed for the ten-foot concrete wall ahead of them. When they
cleared the buildings it became apparent the wall extended in both
directions. It was plastered with colorful graffiti and sat just
beyond five or six sets of railroad tracks.

“Hang on, you two. We're going to swing around the floodwall
for this next part.”

“Um, Annie's gone. She ran away. Like Dean.”

He could almost hear his mom thinking. Weighing the pros and cons
of the loss of Annie with whatever she was doing. Liam found her new
focus a little troubling. The mom he'd known all his life was kind
and compassionate, and losing an entire human being from a three-man
crew would be something requiring serious attention.

“OK. Just sit tight. This is almost done.”

It took him a further minute to ask what she'd meant by that. The
noise and vibrations of the heavy tank told him they were crossing
rough ground.

“We're going to blow up the temporary bridge to St. Louis.
We have to stop the convoy from getting here.”

“What? The convoy? It's in West Virginia, isn't it?”

“Don't believe what you see on the news. Never. It's much
closer than that.”

Cliff Hammerich called the Tiger an antique. Going to war seemed
like a pretty dumb thing to do with an antique. There was also
another bridge ten miles south of the city. They'd walked right under
it...

The tank sputtered and came to a stop.

“Jason. Wait,” she said over the radio.

“Roger that. Waiting. Out.”

Another moment's pause. Lana spoke directly into her microphone.
“Liam, would you mind climbing down from the tank for a few
minutes? We checked this area for zombies and it's clear. You'll be
fine for a few minutes.”

“Why? What's happening?”

“You have to trust me. I need you to get down. Take your
rifle and my handgun.”

He wanted to argue, but things were moving too fast and he
couldn't keep up. Tanks, special zombies, and NIS hit squads had made
him lose his proverbial marbles. Now his mother wanted him out of the
safety of the steel cage so he could stand alone in a world filled
with zombies. Though it struck him as self-destructive, he took off
his headphones and climbed out and down the tank.

The spray-painted barrier was a floodwall. Seeing it reminded him
of any number of floods over the years with news crews getting
footage of how high the water came to topping the wall. An opening
the width of a street was just ahead. The movable flood doors were
all the way open. And, once his foot was on the ground, Lana had her
tank moving forward for the gap in the wall, close behind Jason.

That was the moment he realized the idea of getting the tanks was
not really his idea at all. And, to further the discovery process, he
wasn't on a rescue mission for some old tanks. He was on a strike
mission, to stop the arrival of an enemy army.

And the only word that resonated as he stood in the July sunshine
was “antique.”

5

Liam watched as the two Tigers each released a couple small
drones—the size of large birds—from a box behind their
turrets. With small propellers pushing them, they took off straight
up for about fifty feet, then began angling toward the river beyond
the floodwall.

He tried to guess the functions of the drones—they looked
alien next to the 75-year-old tanks—but nothing came to mind.
Cliff had said there were enhancements done to the old beasts, though
drones aren't what he expected.

Liam's own situation became his prime concern. The large crowds of
the city weren't on the scene yet, but there were zombies in the
neighborhood. One stout young man ambled out of a nearby warehouse
through a large wrecked set of garage-style doors. He got his rifle
ready to dispatch it, but had to let it get a little closer so he had
a hope of hitting it in the head, for a proper zombie headshot. At
that moment he really wished he had Victoria with him, as her skill
with rifles at long range was much better than his own.